I have so much residue crap in my hair from years and years of not washing it and not having any sense of personal hygiene whatsoever. Even today, I go into these things where I'm supposed to be this sexy guy or whatever, and I'm literally asking, 'If I get plumes of dandruff on me, can you just brush it off?'
quote by Robert Pattinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Be Sexy Effortlessly
Being sexy is not revealing parts.
Being sexy is highlighting features.
Highlight hair, ears, neck, upper back,
Arms or legs but one or two at a time.
There's a fine line between being sexy
And being cheap, which a woman must note.
For a toned body, no need of windows.
For defying hair, no need of hair-do.
For evenness of the skin, no cosmetics;
For hygiene body, no need of perfume.
On a pair of high heels one is sexy
With breasts forward and buttocks upward.
To look sexy, woman must feel sexy.
In feeling sexy, she gains confidence
About her sexual prowess and command.
Be sexy effortlessly and feed man's eyes.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Snow Scene
When I walked out this morning
There was dandruff everywhere,
Dandruff on the pathways,
Dandruff falling through the air,
Somebody huge was high up there
Combing and combing his shaggy hair! !
'Why don't you use some shampoo? ! ' I shouted.
No answer.
Then there was a roll of thunder
And I ran back indoors.
I didn't know why I was frightened
But I thought it was rather sinister:
SOMEBODY was definitely up there,
Combing and combing his shaggy hair! !
Later a chap with a yellow face came along
And tidied away the dandruff:
He was a warm and jovial person
And soon the snowdrops and daffodils were blooming.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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The God Of Common-Sense
My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense:
"Its takes a hair-brush back," said he, "to teach kids common-sense."
And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face.
Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place.
For Dad declared with unction: "Spare the brush and spoil the brat."
The dear old man! What e'er his faults he never did do that;
And though a score of years have gone since he departed hence,
I still revere his deity, The God of Common-sense.
How often I have played the ass (Man's universal fate),
Yet always I have saved myself before it was too late;
How often tangled with a dame - you know how these things are,
Yet always had the gumption not to carry on too far;
Remembering that fancy skirts, however high they go,
Are not to be stacked up against a bunch of hard-earned dough;
And sentiment has little weight compared with pounds and pence,
According to the gospel of the God of Common-sense.
Oh blessing on that old hair-brush my Daddy used to whack
With such benign precision on the basement of my back.
Oh blessings on his wisdom, saying: "Son, don't play the fool,
Let prudence be your counselor and reason be your rule.
Don't get romantic notions, always act with judgment calm,
Poetical emotions ain't in practice worth a damn/
let solid comfort be your goal, self-interest your guide. . . ."
Then just as if to emphasize, whack! whack! the brush he plied.
And so I often wonder if my luck is Providence,
or just my humble tribute to the God of Common-sense.
poem by Robert William Service
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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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Children of the World #3
The children as they live today, are future
disease carriers. They have no hygiene knowledge.
AS they grow, and mature. They must be taught
proper health care. Starting with the simple
washing of their hands.
They must be taught how to care for, keep their
bodies clean to prevent diseases from occuring.
proper hygiene is a necessity.
Sex education must be taught to prevent unwanted
children. Also to curb the population explosion.
Young men, as well as the girls must learn to
become responsible adults.There must be a new mind
set about sex. It is not always about producing
children. men and women need to be taught proper
hygiene. Men taught, and provided with protection.
Women must be taught, and receive birth control
pills, or shots.
Our Bible clearly tells us, raise up your children
in the way they should go, and when they are old,
they will not depart from it.This is a lesson,
well taken all things are possible with God's help.
When these things I write about begin to happen.
New societies will begin to emerge. The Children
of the world will be prepared to face the future.
they will look for a tomorrow with anticipation
poem by Heather Burns
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That Child Hiding In One Of The Nooks Of The Busy Kitchen
there there
there is that child that hides in one of the nooks of the kitchen
badly beaten
and crying in silence
for years he is hiding there
and everyone is disregarding him
justifying
he is one of those pasts
and pasts
shall be forgotten
there there
there is that child that keeps on crying silently
and endlessly for years
my attention is
always caught
saying
i am you and you are in me
do not pretend that the years have grown some callous skin in your hands
that you are hard
and impenetrable
i am your father my child
and you cannot just treat me like a shrug on a shoulder
like dandruff on your hair
like some
old uncut fingernails
think some more
for solutions
and if you find it
this trembling room shall stop trembling
your nightmares
finally gone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shower Days
In the morning I awake
I feel my bladder about to break
I scratch my balls I rub my eyes
Just feeling lousy
My girlfriend tells me that
Its time to take a bath
I say, no, not today, its only tuesday
Once every 24 hours
Im supposed to take a shower
Thats not the way I do it
Do it do it
Personal hygiene is the last thing on my mind
I dont want to do it
Do it do it
It doesnt make a difference to me
Everyday I do the same old thing
So why should I have to be clean?
Those dreaded wednesdays and saturdays
Also known as shower days
I hate them
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today; Tomorrow
Today
It’s been five years since I have heard your voice.
Today
It’s been five years since I have heard your laugh.
Today
It’s been five years since I have seen your smile.
Today
Is the saddest day for me.
Today
I still remember like it was yesterday.
Today
I feel numb just like how I felt five years ago.
Today
I can still remember how I ran and didn’t want to stop.
Today
I still feel the emptiness of knowing I won’t ever see you again.
Today
I try and smile for you knowing that you are watching over me.
Today
I let my tears roll down slowly down my cheeks.
Today
I remember how you were so happy to be home.
Today
I still know that you didn’t have to suffer no more.
Today
I still try hard not to blame myself why you left my world.
Today
I sit here and remember the memories I have of you.
But tomorrow
I will still smile for you.
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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While Hair Brushing
Juliette drags the brush
through her hair you have
to brush it at least one
hundred times her mother
had said years ago and say
a prayer each time you get
it through and maybe God
will bless you and as she sits
and brushes her hair she
remembers her mother standing
over her when she was a child
and the hair was as long then
as it is now and oh God she
says how I hated it the knots
and tangles and the number of
times I used to cry each time
she pauses in front of the mirror
the brush held mid air sometimes
when she brushes her hair and
stares in the mirror she sees him
there looking at her as he did back
then watching her every move
his dark eyes greedily drinking
her in and once he placed his
hands around her waist and kissed
her neck how she cringed his spittle
still there her uncle his breath his
hands touching always when she
was alone and once when undressing
he came in and stared and said he
thought she was becoming a beautiful
young girl now she brushes her hair
again the brush stiff and heavy gripped
in her hand and as she stares into the
mirror heavy with times and care she
thinks she sees him still staring still there.
poem by Terry Collett
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Piece Of Crap (Eddie Vedder & Ministry) (White Label Demo)
Neil Young) (various dates)
Tried to save the trees, bought a plastic bag
The bottom fell out, it was a piece 'a crap...piece of crap...
Wanted an LP, only had CD's
Digitally clean, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Bought myself a can, thought it'd take me far
The dealer was a liar, he was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Got it from my friend, on him you can depend
I found out in the end, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
I'm trying to save the trees, I saw it on TV
They cut the forest down to build a piece of crap...piece of crap...
Picked up a magazine to read about the scene
It didn't tell me beans, it was a piece of crap...piece of crap...
I went back to the store, they gave me four more
The guy told me at the door it was a piece of crap...
It was a piece of crap
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Return
Now its years since your body went flat and even memories of that
are all think and dull, all gravel and glass. But who needs them
now -- displaced they're easily more safe --
the worst of it now: I can't remember your face.
Return.
For a while, with the vertigo cured, we were alive -- we were pure.
The void took the shape of all that you were, but years take their toll,
and things get bent into shape...
Antiseptic and tired, I can't remember your face.
Return.
You were supposed to grow old. Reckless, unfrightened, and old,
you were supposed to grow old.
Return. You were supposed to return.
song performed by by Ok Go
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Promises We Made
The old place,
has changed a lot.
Since I’ve been away.
But I have not forgot.
The promises,
we made that day.
Many years have passed on by.
We can’t put them to one side.
Nor can we,
brush away tears through the years,
we’ve cried.
Though I love you,
much more than I did then.
Things have happened though the years,
we can’t change.
You are married now.
Have to keep you husband’s table laid.
So we’ll not keep,
those promises we made.
poem by David Harris
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looking Back An Overview Of A Life
Today, I turned forty three
So I look back or look ahead
Back to what I was or ahead to what I'll be
But not too far because then I'd be dead
I decided to look back then ttavel ahead
Exploring my most pivotal years
Remembering things people had said
Examining my deepest fears
Childhood, years of innocence and wonder
Everything to a child's eyes is new
Til one day, innocence is torn asunder
As surely as the sky will be blue
Teenage years, a sense of immortality
At such an age death is not even imagined
Doing everything with such youthful vitality
Not knowing the end is already predestined
Twenties and Thirties maturity is reached
And things just seem to fall into place
Your innocence, long since breached
Is remembered in the look on a child's face
In your Forties attaining middle age
Deciding that maturity looks good on you
Graying hair, against which you don't rage
You feel it's distinguished, how very true
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
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Poetry Is Sexy
Poetry is sexy
Its lyrics aim to please
Poetry is sexy
Engaging in its tease
Poetry is sexy
It radiates with verb
Poetry is sexy
Every idyllic word
Poetry is sexy
Refined for purity
Poetry is sexy
Stripped of subtlety
Poetry is sexy
When read between the lines
Poetry is sexy
Laced with frilly rhymes
Poetry is sexy
Both singular and plural
Poetry is sexy
Every exclamatory swirl
Poetry is sexy
Grammatically raw
Poetry is sexy
Even typos and all
Poetry is sexy
Consummated publicly
Poetry is sexy
When performed properly
Poetry is sexy
Irrespective of its font
Poetry is sexy
Fashioned any way you want
poem by Brian Dorn
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To Genevieve On Her Twenty Ninth Birthday
Happy Birthday to you Genevieve today you are twenty nine
And with age you have grown mellow like the good expensive wine
And on looking back a decade the years simply seemed to fly
And hope this tenth day of August is a day you will enjoy.
I remember in your teen years you had dreadlocks in your hair
And when things were going against you at your mum you used to swear
But the years have made you mellow and you see things differently
And now with you and mummy dearest it's mostly love and harmony.
Happy Birthday Genevieve Ladds you are twenty nine years old
And you are a special person and your's is a heart of gold
And your friends to you important and they seem to multiply
And hope this tenth day of August is a day you will enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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But for the first time in many years, I get to sleep in my own bed every night. I haven't done that, literally, in years. It seems like such a small thing, but it is so nice.
quote by Linda Vester
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dawn Is A Feeling
Dawn is a feeling,
A beautiful ceiling.
The smell of grass
Just makes you pass
Into a dream.
You're here today,
No future fears,
This day will last
A thousand years
If you want it to.
You look around you,
Things they astound you
So breathe in deep,
You're not asleep,
Open your mind.
You're here today,
No future fears,
This day will last
A thousand years
If you want it to.
Do you understand
That all over this land
There's a feeling?
In minds far and near
Things are becoming clear
With a meaning.
Now that you're knowing
Pleasure starts flowing.
It's true life flies
Faster than eyes
Could ever see.
You're here today.
No future fears.
This day will last
A thousand years
If you want it to.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sexy AT Sixty
I was fit and feisty at fifty
It was no big deal
Because that's how half a century
Is supposed to feel.
In my sixties I'll take stock
Start making new plans
Ignoring all the cant's
Embracing all the can's.
Can I be sexy at sixty?
And try all the fashion and fads
Wear stockings an suspenders
And Joan Collins shoulder pads.
I can deal with sexy at sixty
And wear Vivienne Westwood clothes
Dress up and go out on the town
Wearing all my buttons and bows.
I'm going to be sexy at sixty
I'll wear Gok Wan lingerie
Find myself a toy boy
Then maybe lead him astray.
Swift and sexy at sixty
When I get my Jimmy Choos
Dancing the night away
To the sound of Rhythm and Blues.
Oh! I want to be sexy at sixty
Cause age is a state of mind
I'm preparing my body at keep fit
So as not to be left behind.
But first I have to deal with
Old skin, bad teeth, grey hair
Then remove the unwanted growths
From just about everywhere.
Then! I'll definitely be sexy at sixty
And undoubtedly done it all
The only problem is that most of it
I simply won't recall.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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The tribulation period is seven years, and when the signing of the covenant occurs, people who know the Bible and take it literally will know that, seven years later, Christ is going to come in His power and glory.
quote by Tim LaHaye
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For An Old Man (Baltimore 1968)
i saw an old man today
he was all of ninety years
gray hair and whiskers did grow
round his ears
i asked him why he penciled notes
upon a browning pad
i do it to pass the day, he said
to keep from being sad
was he the wiser of generations
are we the age he has been
or is he just the passing of time
and of bottled gin
i saw an old man today
he was all of ninety years
gray hair and whiskers
did shadow his lonely tears
(Copyright Steven S. Walsky 1968)
poem by Steven S. Walsky
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